


Behind the Dream Catcher

by thePetetoherPatrick



Series: Fallen Angels and Soulmarks [4]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Backstory, F/F, M/M, Oneshot, demon and angels au, first person pov death, idk how to tag this, if you've read Perfect Boys With Their Perfect Lives you should know what this is, pete is only passingly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thePetetoherPatrick/pseuds/thePetetoherPatrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m awoken by the infernal buzzing and yelling of my alarm. I groan, roll over, and smack at my phone to turn it off. I groan loudly into my pillow. Why do I have to get up so early? Oh yeah, cause you chose to be a highschool teacher, that’s why stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Dream Catcher

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read Perfect Boys With Their Perfect Lives then you should know what this is...if not go read that first.....just a suggestion.....

I’m awoken by the infernal buzzing and yelling of my alarm. I groan, roll over, and smack at my phone to turn it off. I groan loudly into my pillow. Why do I have to get up so early? Oh yeah, cause you chose to be a highschool teacher, that’s why stupid. I push myself up off the bed and sit with my feet hanging over the edge. I look at the thorny rose vine tattooed up my leg until the image becomes clear as my eyes accept that it’s time to start working. I grab for my stupid dorky glasses and put them on to make the image even clearer. I pad out to the kitchen in my over-sized band shirt and undies to put on a kettle for my morning tea. I grab the to go mug out of the dish rack and set it on the counter while the electric kettle boils. God I hate mornings. I run my hand through my curly mess of dark brown hair to check for knots. Nothing too bad. I can manage that without too much effort. The kettle flips itself off and I put the teabag in the cup. I pour the hot water in the cup and unplug the kettle. I leave it there and go to get ready for work. 

I dig out my dark blue shirt that pisses off the principle because of how low cut it is. She tried to get me to wear more modest clothing but lost that battle easily when I pointed out that she herself dresses like more of a hoe than I do. I run a brush through my hair. It’s not so curly that that’s difficult but it’s not straight at least. I roll up the sleeves on my shirt to reveal the dream catcher soulmark on my forearm. I gently brush my fingers over the blue feathers and smile. One day I’ll know why they are blue. I pull on my black dress pants and do simple makeup before running back out to finish making my tea. I put the sugar and milk in it before tucking all my stuff for my classes today in my bag. The kids seem alright with the way I teach, I’ve only had one complaint. I am filling in for the usual History teacher who is away on maternity leave and at only twenty-six I’m the youngest teacher there. I look in the mirror by the door, wiping away a bit of the black eyeliner that dared to smudge messier than I like it, before slipping on my riding boots, grabbing my leather jacket and helmet, and heading out the door. 

I secure my coffee and bag to the back of my Harley and slip my arms into my jacket. I swing a leg over the bike and put on my helmet before I kick start it and take off. I take the long way to work, trying to avoid traffic as much as possible. There are a lot of rude drivers around here that drive aggressively when they see someone on a motorcycle, honestly sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t just take the train. Back at home, while the problem is still there, it’s not quite as bad. Canadians just aren’t as big of jerks about things like that I guess. I pull into the parking lot of Lake View High and find a spot as far away from the front as I can manage. The closer to the front the higher the risk of careless visitors hitting my bike. I’d be pissed. I take off the helmet and hang it on the handlebar of the bike. I grab my bag and tea, and head into the building. 

“Ms. Lawrence, I believe we’ve discussed that shirt.” the principle calls after me from the office. 

“We did and I’m sure you’ll recall my response, I believe that is the exact skirt you were wearing that day and my comment still applies.” I remark and keep walking, I really don’t actually care what she thinks, she’s been nothing but verbally abusive since I got here and according to the other teachers she was like that long before as well. I unlock the door to my classroom and set my things on my desk. I take a long sip of my tea and start writing out today’s lesson on the chalkboard. I glance at the dream catcher hanging in the window behind my desk, identical to the one hanging over my bed at home. I touch the bright blue pentacle pendant resting heavily against my chest before going back to writing.

I barely notice when the bell rings and kids start filing in. Half this first class are Demons like me so they usually behave, they know I don’t tolerate their crap. I finish up and turn around just in time to catch Reg and Josh in the act of preparing to throw a paper airplane at me. I glare at them, my light green eyes conveying the warning well enough that Josh immediately crumples the plane up and stuffs it in his desk. 

“Alright, so today we’ll continue our discussion on early Greek civilization and how the deities and heroes in their mythology affected everyday life for the citizens of the Greek city states….” 

~~~~~

“Liza, how’d your first four periods go today?” Anna, known to the kids as Ms. Riley, asks sitting in the staff lunch room. I shrug. She chuckles. She’s a few years older than me, in her thirties at least, and stuck teaching math. The least favourite subject of pretty much every student in this school. She’s the only one that gives me that nickname, I’ve asked her not to but she says my name is a mouthful.

“I only had to give out one detention today at least.” I look in the fridge. I forgot to bring a lunch. “I’m going out to get lunch, you want anything?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “Alright I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.” I shrug into my jacket and head out to the parking lot. Waving at a couple of seniors heading out for lunch as well on my way out to my bike. 

~~~~~

I ride my bike to the nearest cafe, which is actually stupidly far away. I’m forced to take the short way, across all the busy roads, to be able to get back to the school on time. I see something amiss ahead of me. I am almost certain that there shouldn’t be a car coming straight for me in this lane at a speed that is definitely illegal. I look around and time gets really slow for a second. There are people on the sidewalk and cars all around me, I’ve got nowhere to veer off out of the way. Then everything speeds up and goes black. I feel like my chest is being crushed by a sack of bricks. Then there’s nothing but sound. Shouting, screaming, and car brakes. I vaguely hear someone trying to get my attention but I feel kind of floaty, nothing is truly getting to me. I hear sirens soon after. The high pitched sound hitting me harder than everything else. The floaty feeling is replaced by the feeling of being torn apart from the inside. My vision goes in and out of focus, I see paramedics hovering over me. One takes off my helmet and tries to get me to talk, asking my name but my voice seems disconnected, like I can’t remember how to use it. Then I black out.

~~~~~

My vision fades in again but I’m in a different place, the noise is different. Somehow louder, lots of loud shouting and official sounding worried voices. Nothing reaches me though. Not really. Not till I feel a shock go through my arm, someone touching my soulmark gently. I use everything I have to focus on who it is. It’s a woman, she’s beautiful. Wide, terrified, and bright blue eyes. Perfect pale skin. Obviously dyed dark purply-mahogany hair that just hits her shoulders and with bangs that hang in her eyes like every emo kid I teach. She looks distressed and I look at her arm. I reach up to touch the dream catcher matching my own that blazes darkly against her pale complexion. I smile weakly as they wheel me away quickly, sounding ever further distressed. I catch a glimpse of a black haired, overly tattooed, emo man standing behind her holding a child so she can’t see me as I am pushed away. 

I find myself struggling to breath as they rush around me. I realize what’s about to happen and I catch a nurse’s attention. I tap at my necklace and my soulmark, she nods understanding. She takes the necklace off of me and holds onto it. My vision fades out again, this time going white instead of black. The last thing I see is the nurse clutching my pendant to her chest, her hands red with the blood covering it and me. My last thought is of the woman meant to be my soulmate, I send out a silent apology for leaving her so soon. Then there’s nothing. No pain. No sound. Nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> so...I'm evil...I know. I said I wouldn't really give Elizabeth a character but the people assuming who she was were starting to bug me so this is me setting the record straight. This is who Elizabeth is, this is a peek into what she's like. In my mind she made the dream catchers that are mentioned...just a tiny tidbit of info I couldn't sneak in there anywhere.   
> Elizabeth Lawrence, while she bears a couple of similarities to me, despite common belief is not actually based on me. I think all OCs share bits and pieces of who they are with their writer unless actually based on someone else.


End file.
